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BACCALAUREATE, 



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i OF INDIANA 



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ADDRESSED TO 


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AT THE LAT 


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BACCALAUREATE, 



BY 



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PRESIDENT OF IiNDIANA UNIVEESITY, 



ADDRESSED TO THE SENIOR CLASS, 



AT THE LATE COMMENCEMENT, 



September, 1845. 



BLOOMINGTON, INDIANA, 



C. DAVISSON, Pk . 



MDCCCXLV. 






J. I. ALEXANDER, 
J. A. CAMPBEL^L, 
JNO A. MILLEN, 
R. Q. ROACHE, 
W.E.SIMPSON, 
B. W. WILSON, 



BACCALAUREATE 



Young Gentlemen: — One, who along with you commenced that 
course of study which you have just finished, is not seen among you 
on this occasion. He is no more on earth. That delicate form which 
once lived and moved among you is a tenant of "the house appointed 
for all the living;"' and that kind and gentle spirit which animated it 
has gone, we doubt not, to enjoy the bliss of that kingdom which flesh 
and blood cannot inherit. He to whom I allude was loved and respect- 
ed by you all, for his sweet and amiable temper and child-like inno- 
cence, united to a sound understanding and a high sense of moral rec- 
titude. He was indeed a most lovely youth. He remembered affec- 
tionately his class-mates and teachers, even ia his last moments: and, 
though that Overruling Power to whose will it becomes us to bow, has 
denied us the pleasure of meeting him here, we take a mournful satis- 
faction in cherishing his memory. While we live let us cherish it.^ — 
It will do us good to contemplate that rare excellence of character 
which is associated with the name of George A. Hauser. 

Having paid this tribute of respect to our departed friend, we hasten 
to our subject. We would be pleased, to linger a while longer, as it 
were by the side of his humble grave, but the audience, to most of whom 
he was unknown, would not participate in our feelings. Other rea- 
sons might be given. This, however, may suffice; and 1 have assigned 
it because it leads me at onoe to the subject which I am about to pro- 
pose for your consideration, and'whichas — Common Sense. 

The phrase, though often used, is not very well, understood. This 
must be my apology for making. those distinctions which 1 am about to 
make and which, though they may seem to some, childish and trifiing, 
are necessary to a clear understanding of the subject. 

The word common, as it is to be understood in this phrase, common, 
sense, does not properly mean that which is usual among men, that de- 
gree of good sense which people generally have:, for^ though it sounds^ 



like a contradiction, it is nevertheless true, that common sense is rath- 
er a rare thing in this world: but it means the joint use of that sense 
\vhich is called common, as being a thing which a number of persons 
use or exercise in common; not every one for himself, but every one 
in connexion with all the rest, and as a part of the whole. 

In this sense of the word there is no one of those, which are common- 
ly called, The five senses, which is, or can be common- Every one 
who is not blind has the use of the sense of seeing; but it is for himself 
alone, and not for others that he sees; nor can he be at all aiTeclcd im- 
mediately by the use of this sense in others: he sees with his own 
eyes, and they with theirs; and the impressions and the information 
they get in the use of this sense are not common, but particular: and 
no one among them can lei I what it is that is conveyed through the 
eye of another to his mind. A number of persons may, at the same 
time, be engaged in looking at the same object; and they may cor- 
rectly judge that all see it alike; but they do not know this to be the 
case from the sense of sight, nor from any thing of which they 
are conscious vn themselves While looking at the object: it is an infer- 
ence derived from the comm.unication they have had by means of words 
with others in similar cases before. 

What has been just said respecting the sense of sight will apply to 
the four remaining senses. 

They are particular, not common. 

But there is a sense, which, though there is no organ of the body be- 
longing to it, as there is to sight, hearing, and taste, acts in each indi- 
vidual as if he were not a separate being, with distinct consciousness 
of his own, but a part of a larger being, made up of himself and as 
many others as are in connexion with him in this mysterious unity; or 
as if, by some influence more secret and powerful ihan that of Mesmer 
ism, the thoughts and feelings of one mind were made to pass into an 
other without the use of signs or any outward means of communication 
The word common is used in this same sense, in other connexions. — 
'I'hus, property is said to be common which belongs to a number of per- 
sons conjointly ; that is called common prayer which is offered by a 
whole congregation uniting in the use of the same words; and ihat is 
called the Common Law in which all have an equal, -interest, and which 
applies to all alike. • 



As to the word sense, every one knows what ii means when it is used 
to designate the sense of hearing, or any other of the external senses, 
which are exercised by the instrumentality of bodily organs. But 
there are other senses which seern to be exercised by the mind itself, 
without the use of any bodily organ. I say, seem to be: for whatever 
subserviency ihat great organ of thought, the Brain, may have in thi3 
matter, we know it not by these senses. In the case of the external 
senses there is an organic impression, of which we are immediately 
conscious, whenever any one of them is exercised. If for example, a sa- 
pid body be taken into the mouth, we have not only the sensation wh'ch 
is proper to it, but we know by the manner in which the organs of 
laste are affected that these organs are somehow instrumental in con- 
veying the sensation to the mmd : so much so, indeed, that I suppose it 
is commonly thought that the sensation is in fact in the organ 
and not in the mind. In the case of the internal senses there is no 
sucli organic impression. So, if a man feels remorse, the anguish is in 
the conscience, v^hich has been not improperly called the moral sense: 
and there is no part of the body particularly affected by it. 

This difference is sufficient to mark the distinction between the ex- 
lernal senses and that other class of senses of which Common sense is 
one; and which, for this reason and because their objects are not of the 
material world, may be called internal. They are a sense of honor, a 
sense of shame, a sense of justice, a sense of fitness, a sense of the beau- 
tiful, of the sublime, of the ridiculous; and suchlike. By these senses 
it is that we learn what is that which we call honor, justice, 
beamy; and so on rand, were any one to be born without them, he could 
not be made to understand the meaning of such terms, any more than 
one born blind could be taught to distinguish colors. But by these 
senses we get not only the cognition of what is justice, honor, beauty 
and the like; but have the mind affected in the contemplation of them, 
in a way that cannot easily be explained in words. We call it senti- 
ment and feeling. But these words convey but a faint conception of 
what takes place in the mind when these internal senses are in a state 
of intense activity. They can either raise it into the highest transports 
of delight; or plunge it into the darkest depths of disgust and horror; 
impart to it a firmness of purpose which neither terrors can daunt nor 
sufferings subdue, or paralyze its strength, so that existence itself shall 



6 

become a burden: ihey can tranquilize it by a peace within which the 
storms of adversity cannot disturb, or make it like the troubled sea 
which cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. They occupy 
that pan of the soul which we call the spirit, the region wherein are 
generated those notions towards good or evil which determine the char- 
acter. 

Common sense is one of them. In dignity it is among the lowest 
01 their number: the influence which it exerts is nevertheless very great. 

It belongs to that part of our nature which is social. Some parts of 
the human constitution are evidently intended for the use of man as an 
individual. They are the charter of the Creator defining to every 
one severally that part of himself which, under God, he is permitted to 
hold as his exclusive property, the territory over which he is to rule,, 
and which he has a right to defend against all aggressors. He may 
not manage his territory well and wisely; but it is his own, and no 
one has the right to meddle with it or concern himself in any way a- 
l)out it, — unless, indeed, he can produce a warrant for so doing from 
the Author of nature. 

Now, what I have chiefly here to remark is, that it is the province 
•of Common Sense to trace out the boundary of t his peculium, this lot, 
this private domam which belongs to every man in particular, and' 
sacredly to observe it, so as neither to transgress it to the injury of an- 
other, nor to allow another to transgress it in detriment to himself. — 
And this office it is well fitted to perform, being endowed with a nice 
instinctive power of discrimination, resembling the external senses in 
this, that it is not only delighted with what it is proper for it to choose, 
but offended with whatever it is the design of nature that it should re- 
ject. 

The only additional remark of a general kind that I shall make on 
the nature of Common Sense, is that, of all the powers and capacities 
belonging to the nature of man it is the most susceptible of improvement 
and also the most liable to be perverted and led astray by the influence 
of circumstances: so that, except in things indifferent, we ought never 
implicitly to follow itsdictates. I shall illustrate this remark to a few 
examples. 

The first is taken from that class of persons of whom there are none in 
this country, persons who by birth and fortune are raised above the ne- 



■cessily of following any kind of business for a livelihood. These peo- 
ple spend most of their time in social intercourse among themselves. — 
Their cares are expended in making this intercourse as agreeable as 
possible. To this end a code of laws has been provided. It is made up 
of a great number of rules and ceremonies, which'are studied and 
practised with mora than religious zeal and exactness; so that, by show- 
ing himself ignorant of etiquette a man would incur greater loss of 
reputation, than by violating any precept of the decalogue, or, indeed, 
nil of them together, provided it were not done in a vulgar way . Now 
ihese rules are for the most part founded in common sense; that is, the 
'CommoB sense of that class of people who have agreed to be governed 
1)y them. The many minute forms and modes, in regard to dress, lan- 
guage and behavior, which these rules prescribe, are so many ways in 
which it has been tacitly stipulated that they will tnanifest, towards 
each other, deference, respect, kindness and good will. Now every 
man knows by his own consciousness that these sentiments, manifested 
towards himself, are very agreeable; but it is common sense that teach- 
•es him that they are equally so to others. It follows, therefore, thart 
not to comply with these rules proves a man to be deficient, either in 
benevolence, or in common sense, or in both. 

Yet there is something essentially and radically wrong in the rnan- 
ueroflife which these people live. It is frivolous, and the farthest 
possible from yielding that kind of satisfaction which is most proper 
for rational beings; to say nothing of that high obligation which rests 
-chiefly upon those on whom Providence has bestowed great riches. 
When this is taken into view, their conduct and way of life seems fair- 
ly to be,pictured in the Parable, which shows us a splendid mansion 
full of luxury and gayety within, while at the gate lies a sufferer to 
"whom no office of kindness is shown, except by "the dogs." Leaving 
out of view, however, such high and solemn considerations as these, 
and regarding the matter in that point of light only in which it is pre- 
sented by our subject, we must say, to spend one's life in cares about 
the frivolities of etiquette in regard to dress, balls, ceremonious, and 
half-ceremonious visits, evening parties, and I know not what, which 
go to make up that ceaseless round of petty cares and anxieties, which, 
under the name of amusement, make up the course and tenor of fash- 
ionable life, is surely beneath the dignity of a rational being, and tends 
io degrade the mind, by subjecting it to the domination of Fashion, the 



most arbitrary and capricious of tyrants. Wha^,tben,i3 a wise man 
to do? If he is cast by birth or fortune among that class of people 
which I have described, he must obey the dictates of common sense 
and do as they do; or, following the dictates of his own individual 
reason, he must pursue such a course as will cause him to be excluded 
from what is called the "best society," 1 leave you however to an- 
swer this question for yourselves, while I remark that the instances 
are indeed rare, in which, in this matter, men, and especially women, 
are not found to choose according to common sense and not according 
to reason. It is a case, indeed, in which common sense is perverted 
by circumstances and becomes too strong for reason. 

The next instance that I shall adduce is one in which, on the contra- 
ry, it is too weak. The instance is taken from a state of things with 
which we are better acquainted than we are with that from which the 
case just mentioned has been adduced. I shall therefore be in no dan- 
ger of misrepresenting or of being misunderstood. Let the one in- 
stance suffice for that whole class to which it belongs, and which is 
usually denominated rudencs and ill manners. There is a man about 
to enter his neighbor's house: observe his movements. There is a 
scraper before the door, and a rug, or what is better, a plat of green 
sward. He pays no attention to them, but goes strait on, making two 
or three oblique movements with his feet upon the steps, leaving on 
each one a quantity of the clay with which his boots are encumbered. 
The doorsil and entry receive a portion. A chair is offered, and no 
sooner is he seated than he begins to feel, first with one heel then whh 
the other, for a place on the front round of his chair where his feet 
may rest: and having disposed his lower limbs, like the two sides of 
an equilateral triangle, and thrown himself back, with the upper parts 
of the chair infringing against the wall, his sinciput resting against 
the same, he is prepared to open the matter of his visit, discussing, the 
while, a large quid of tobacco. His dog, no less studious of comfort 
has in the mean time knowingly disposed o( his huge bulk; and lies, 
all along with nose thrust out between his fore paws, in an attitude in- 
viting sleep. 

Now I find it written, in a book called "The Ladies' Science of Eti. 
quelle, by an English lady of rank," among the rules which, it seems, 
regulate, in England, the behavior of people of rank, in what is called 
^'half-ceremoneous visits," that it is necessary to leave one's dog in 



9 

>the ante-rocm. In irr gard to vij-its of-cerfrrory the law is more 
strici; si»ce it prohibils dcg^— and childreri — alirgether Soihat,as 
to the mailer of ihe dcg, we tee that ihe ccnduct of cur visiter is not 
so very far from the ion. 

After he is gone, the maid, or rather the mistress of the family her- 
.self; — for as things are with us, she has generally to perform tht office 
of maid, as well as those of nurse, cook and laundress — has no little 
trouble, with shovel, brocmjtr.op and suds, to restore ihings to seme, 
thing Ijke the condition in .^\hich itey were lefore he enieied. B*" 
the good honest nzan, never thought of all this. Why did he not? 
Clearly, because hewas deficient in common sense. The least grain 
of «!ense in common with the mistress of the , house, would have appri- 
sed him what would be lier slate of mind in the premises. 

Other instances similar in kind might be leadily adduced: but my 
object being rather to give a general view of ihe subject ihan to illus- 
trate it in any particular, application, I proceed to present it under a- 
nolher aspect. 

;St. Paul, in describing charity, says <'it doth nr t behave itself unseem- 
ly ,•" and Aristotle, whose scheme of ethics is constructed on the prin- 
ciple that Virtue is the means between extremes, (that is to say, vices,) 
places the quality to which, as 1 suppose, the Apostle refers, (a posi- 
tive being. in\imated under two negatives — "no^ wnseemly'') in the mid- 
dle ; between Authadeia, which means a certain arrogant moroseness. 
or self-sufficient, self-pleasing temper, on t-hc one hand, and Areskia, 
which implies too much of the disposition to please others, on the oth- 
er. He calls it Semnotes. Though the Apostle uses different terms, 
his meaning is the same. I know not how better to describe it in gen- 
eral terms (for 1 know of no one word in our language into which it 
can be exactly translated,) than to sey, that it denotes that Delicacy 
of common sense which characterizes \\\e true gentleman, and which 
chiefly manifests itself in those cases where the person acting is, in 
certain important respects, in a situation difTerent from those who are 
lo be affected by his conduct, whether efTectively by some influence 
exerted upon them, or merely as spectators. In such circumstances it 
is a nice point to perceive what a man owes to them and what to him- 
self. Besides there are situations in life in which the swj^ibilities of 
cyr nature may be tortured by unskilful attempts to soothe them, Le 
the .great Port of human nature furnish us both an instance and the 
philosophy of it. ^ 



10 

Hero, ihe only daughter of Antonio, is dead of a broken heart (as i..> 
unhappy father supposes) when on the eve of being worthily nnarried| 
and, what is worse, her character is blasted by an accusation so artfully 
formed that her intended husband and her faiher himself are compelled 
to believe it. A friend attempts to check the father's grief, and he re- 
plies: 

"I pray thee, cease thy counsel, 

Which falls into mine ears as profitless 

As watei in a sieve, give not me counsel ; 

Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, 

But such a one whose wrongs do siiit with mine. 

Bring me a lather that bo loved his child, 

Whose joy of her is overwhelmed like mine, 

And bid him speak of patience — 
The whole passage is too long to be here quoted. The conplusion 
is, however, so exact to my purpose, that 1 cannot but repeat it. 

No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience 

To those that wring under the load of sorrow; 

But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency, 

To be so moral, when he shall endure 

The like himself; therefore give me no counsel 

My griefs cry louder than adveitisement. 

Much fMdo about JSothing. Act . V. 

What most soothes the heart crushed by the stroke of such a calam- 
ity, is the silent sympathy of friends— not lectures. 
Common sense, if it wants delicacy, does not perceive this. 

The same delicacy, in a still higher degree, is often requisite in the 
sufferer himself. Deep feeling is never noisy, or boisterous; whether 
i t be of joy, or grief. The latter especially seeks to hide itself from the 
public gaze. There are griefs, too, which all are not prepared to un- 
derstand; and which consequently they can not respect. The sufferer, 
owes it to himself to hide such griefs, as far as possible, from the view 
of others. Before the bar of Pilate the accused Savior of mankmd an- 
swered nothing: for he knew the court had previously resolved to give 
him up to the will of his accusers. It would have been unworthy of 
his innocence and dignity to make a defense against such accusers or 
before such judges. His conduct on the occasion was such, therefore, 
as became him — "not unseemly:" — it was — "Semnotes." 

Public servants are liable to be accused to their masters, the People: 
and it requires sometimes a nice adjustment between the claims of com- 



11 

mon sense and iho^e orons''s own proper sense; in other word?, between 
the consideraiioa which is due to the people and their interests, on the 
one hand, and that respect which every honest man owes to himself, oa 
the other, to enable the person accused to determine on the course he 
-ought to pursue. If he have a strong parly to back him. he may do as 
Jefferson did, treat all such accusations with silent contempt. But if 
not--he may still do it, if his accuser conceals himself behind the hedge, 
shooting his poisoned arrows — poisoned, but harmless — except to the 
archer: — for the people have common sense enough to make the case 
of the accused their own, and, to a certain extent, to make common 
cause with him who is thus basely assailed. The case in which com- 
mon sense is m^st at fault is thai in which the people themselves have 
become so divided into parties, each party e iger to advance itself on the 
ruins of its antagonist, that, even in matters of great importance and of 
public notoriety, it is exceedingly difficult, unless for those who have 
not only capacity but leisure and opportunity, to find out what is the 
truth. Ha must be a great simpleton who believes whatever is said by 
a partizan, even though he find it in history; since there is no period 
of the past in which there have not baen parties on all those subjects in 
which are involved the great interests of human nature. Hence the 
propriety of the rule, which requires that we look at both sides of ev- 
ery question, and consider the statements of both parties, before mak 
ing up a judgment: — ^' Audi alteram partem. ^"^ 

After all, there is wanting, in such cases, some thing more than com- 
mon sense — namely a high philosophy. Common sense is good at the 
scent, but the ground has been so run over by all manner of animals, 
crossing and recrossing each other's tracks, and traversing the field in 
all possible directions, that by sense alone the traces of Truth cannot be 
followed. 

The-4^rther persons are separated in character and condition from 
one another the greater delicacy must be used in their intercourse, and 
especially by those who in these respects are superiors. For, as it is 
by common sense that people understand the feelings of each other, 
and as the greater difference there is between them in these respects 
the fewer the points of contact through which it can act, its power of 
discernment and feeling, that is to say, its delicacy, must be proportion- 
ally increased to produce its proper effects. Take the case of the young 



12 

and the old: the one cannot readily enter into the feelings of the other;' 
for though the old have been you^ng, yet it requires a higher dag res of- 
coaimon sense than it seen>5 soms old people possess to keep them in 
mind of this fact, obvious as it is; and as the young kaovv not by expe- 
rience what it is to b3 old, they c^a have but little' insight into that 
state of nnind which age produces. The same holds true of certain 
other distinctions, which, in proportion as they prevail, separate every 
community into classes. Such are the rich, the poor; the learned and 
ignorant; the polished, and the rude; the good, and the bad; those who 
command, and those who obey. To these may be added the classes 
into which people are divided according to their er<np!'oyments,;^ as farm- 
ers, mechanics, lawyers, physicians, teachers, and so on. In addi- 
tion lo all these we may notice that grand distinction which nature has- 
made between those two classes into which thi3 whole of the humin 
species is nearly equally divided, the distinctioa between male and fe- 
male. 

Here opens an immense Said of observation which we have not time 
to enter. A remark or two, in passing, is all that can be allowed . 

It is a dictate of reason as has already been intimated that in propor- 
tion to the distance between any two of these classses, so should be the 
delicacy and condescension shown by those of the superior class in their 
intercourse with the inferior: and so in reiurn should be the deference 
which should mark the conduct of the inferiors towards their superiors. 
There are some, I am perfectly aware, whose blood boils at the men- 
tion of these words, superiors and inferiors, and there are others who 
affect such a style and put on such an air and deportment in their inter- 
course with their fellow citizens as are intended to intimate this as'lheir 
opinion, that there are really no just grounds for such distinctions amot>g 
men as these term? imply: though in truth they themselves enierlain- 
no such opinion, baton the contrary feel in their hearts the profoundest 
contempt for those whom they flatter. 

There are some, also, and even am )ng those who write books, who-" 
we think, are altogether sincere in this opinion, being silly enough to 
believe any thing. One of these dealers in that kind of stuff which the 
English call twaddle breaks out in the following sensible style: 

'How happy will be the day when there will be no such thing, known 

as two classes of persons in families, a higher and a lower — jailors and 

"risoners — but when all the family, however numerous and ho\V liiU© 



13 

soever unitod by lies of consanguinity, will be equal and free, dwelling 
together, eating and drinking together, and whether of one nation or a- 
nolher, always uniting around the same domestic altar. How happy 
the time when no restraint will be necessary to keep children from mix- 
ing too much with those who would degrade them or lead them into 
temptation;' — 

He might as well have exclaimed, how happy will be the day when 
there will be known in families no such classes as male and female; 
when children will be as old as their parents; and when there will be 
,no such thing as tenpptation in human life. 

It is often a nice point to. determine how far persons of a superior 
.class ought to carry their condescension in their intercourse with their 
inferiors; and equally so to decide how far inferiors should manifest 
deference toward their superiors, I'he rules of etiquette are in this 
matter, as well as some others, very questionable. For instance, if 
you write to a person of distinction, it is required, accojding to these 
rules as they obtain in England, to pay the postage of your letter; 
Avhile you are forbidden to do it, if writing to a person who is poor. — 
In the first case it is required as a mark of respect; in the second it is 
forbidden, because the doing of it might seem like a reflection on the 
humble condition of the poor, which would be painful to him and un- 
generous in you. 

Again, common sense evidently requires that such as undertake to 
give instruction should suit themselves to the capacities of those for 
whom especiaiiy the instruction is intended. Hence it has come to pass 
that, of 1 he good bocks and the pretty books for children and ladies, so 
many are utterly worthless. 

Supposing the authors of such bcokF; capable of furnishing better mat 
ter, they seem to mc to com>mit two mistakes, l^irst, they condescend 
too much. Children and ladies are not qviie so silly °.s these authors 
seem to ihirik ihem. Secondly, if they would really \ns\ rod they ruust 
go before those whom they instruct ; and it is better that they should la 
sometimes out of sight to their scholars than to have ihem ever tread- 
ing on their heels. When at the age of puberty, 1 read Lccke's Essay 
on the Hurr.an Understonding, with n:ore intense delight than 1 had 
felt, several years before, in the perusal of Eobinson Ciusoe or the 
Pilgrim's Picgress:— end that was certainly not a little. But of Lccke 
^4jndefslaoJ almost nothing at first. Bui by reading his work aga in 



14 

and again, pausing and thinking as I proceeded, I mastered it at last. 
And, I believe, t hat the raost of young persons might, if they would, 
accomplish the same achievment, at the expense of little more time and 
study than ihey generally bestow upon those light and frivolous pro- 
ductions which, while they inflame the passions and stimulate the im- 
agination, tend rather to mislead and corrupt the judgm.ent and tha 
heart than to enlighten and purify them. 

A similar mistake has originated ihe role of etiquette which has beea 
mentioned. People of fashion— and it is they who make the rules of et- 
iquette— are very sensitive to any 'hing which seems to convey an im- 
putation of poverty, which they regard with feelings of shame, as if it 
were a crime or a disgrace. But ihe hontst poor man h,as no such feel- 
ings, lie is sensible only of some of lis inconveniences, one of which 
perhaps is his inability to pay the postage on his 'etters. People of 
fashion forget that, were ihey in his circumstances, they should (eel 
as he does: did they reflect upon this, they would probably estauiish a 
different rule. Their error lies in supposing the poor man lo be equally 
sensitive as themselves in a point where he is not. 

In this country it is more common, especially for foreigners, to fall 
into the mistake of attributing too little rather than too much intelli- 
gence to the common people. This is proved in the numerous failures 
which are made by such as seek to advance their interests wiih the 
public by flattery and calumny, the arts of the sycophant. Instances 
do now and then occur of persons raising themselves to consequence by 
such means; but they are rare; and the popularity which is gained by 
them is apt to be transient. Common sense is not, it is true, always 
able of itself to distinguish between the unostentatious claims of real 
merit, and the empty plausibilities of the mere pretender; since it pro- 
ceeds, in forming a judgment, by signs which are sometimes found lo 
deceive; but when some experience and observation of the ways of men 
are added lo that native sagacity which Common Sense implies, it eel- 
dom fails to form a right estimate of character. 

1 have said that Common Sense proceeds by signs in forming its 
judgment. The power to do so is mysterious in its mode of operation; 
but the fact of its existence is undeniable. The infant, "muling and 
puking in its nurse'sarms," shows ihat it can enter into the sentiments 
which she expresses by means of those signs, in the looks and voice, 
which nature has connected with them. And thus it is thai the charac^ 



15 

{er of the future man begins to bs formed in the first moments of his 
existence. As lime conducts the infant up to man's estate, he becomes 
acquainted with innumerable other ihinos, which common sense places 
-in the rank of signs. They are partly natural it may be; or they have 
become established by custom, which is a second nature; originating, 
one c?innot tell how, in the common course of things. These taken to- 
gether constitute what we commonly call Appearances. They are of 
some use even to the wise in determining their opinions of men and 
things. To common sense they are the ground of judgment; and by 
them common people are governed entirely. By common people 1 mean, 
not ihe poor, as distinguished from the rich, nor yet the unlearned as 
distinguished from men of letters, but all, whether rich or poor, whose 
minds are undisciplined.^ 

In the faculty of construing appearances women are uaturally more 
shrewd than men, and when it is exercised and sharpened by long and 
various intercourse with the world, it ig a keen instrument, very formid- 
able to all such a« practice the arts of imposture. Like instinct it is 
instantaneous in its decisions and next to infallible in cases which fall 

*ArFEARAACES. — The follovying anecdote I received from the late Dr. Jrio. Ander- 
son of Washington Pa. 

A preacher from the city of Charleston S. G. had b«en out into a remote part of the 
counuy, and had preached lo a congregation there. After ihe sermon Dr. A., v^ho 
was then a ^-^duih, noticed that tlie good people were earnestly engaged in riiscussing the 
question, 'how one u ho had no re/j'^jon could pieach so pious a discouise a* thatj"^ 
to which they lad been li^tnnng. That the prtar.her had no rehgion was not the 
question : it was piflin enough iiom hi? rirees. 

That the inriication of chfiracter affordi c] by dress was somewhat surer, in the ca?& I 
am about to mt niicn, will, I fijppcfe, be prtrtiy generaUy admitted. Tiu^ugh noi apt 
;o notice pec pie's fljes!^, my aitentirn was'drawn lo ihatof ayouig man who was on 
board the san e boat with i, e last f^ll, descendir^ ihe Ohio. Bis profane way of talk- 
ing first cauf<ed me to fix niy eje r.pon him. His bcs(/n) was full of ruffles, which were 
soiled and j-habby. He had ritgs and other jewelry about his person in pioiusion, which 
lio wever, v^eje such as sefmfd to sort veiy well with his ri;ffles. His air and n)ar.- 
ner were effccied ; and ihrugh he tiied to apj e ar at his ease there wag, when one locKeiJ 
upon hini, a certain confusio n ditcemible under an outwaid i'hnw of iiTipurience. A 
your:g genth man wno slept in the same room with me told me, one day, that his surtnui 
vms r??J5i???^— an eyceileiit ppe, just new , which hadfosthim foity doUars. In a mi - 
meiit II occurred to me that tlie fell' w' \\. rn fp.t s v as the thiel ; and I afivised the 
young gentleman to Pppriee tiie clfik of the boat of the matter, and to watch gppear- 
ances at the nf xt ]ai;ding. I'he 1 oat havii g, the next morningj stopped at Portsn-ouib^ 
the chRp m ruffles went ashore, arid, after a short time tiiere come on board a black be y 
sent, Bs he told the cleik, for a surtout which a gentleman had left, but which the boy, 
after seaichii g as directed, cculd notiiiid. After the boy re; eated to the cleik the d;- 
rectiofrSj (which the boy himself did not exactly undeistand,) the cleik went and fotuid 
the suttout secieted behind some of the fixtuies arnut the pilot's stand. So the true 
owner got his coat. Buiihe thief — ihe riffccd geritl(mar/,---ohsei\\iig at the hotel ilie 
boy returning without it, followed by me or two otheifc, and uoi liking the appear^ 
anceSj made eft' and escaped by a Dack way. 



16 

wiihin its proper province. Bat. as there are states of the atmosphere 
wherein, according to the proverb, all signs fail; so there are states of 
the popular mind in which this common-sense-racLilty of judging from 
appearances is utterly at fault: so that the most that we can say of it 
and of such as are governed by it, is just what Horace has said near two 
thousand years ago: ''Interdum recte vulgus videt: esiubi peccet/'' One 
of the greatest advantages which the civilized world has gained by the 
dear-bought experience of the many generations that have lived, acted 
and suflured, between his day and ours, is found in that Institution to 
which is intrusted the decision of those matters of grave importance in 
Avhich are involved the character, property and life of individuals, and 
the peace and good order of society at large;— an Institution which pro- 
ceeds, not merely by common sense looking at appearances, but by the 
higher and more discriminating principles which Season employs to ar- 
rive at Justice. In this Institution there is assigned to common sense 
its proper sphere, by a provision which gives to every man the right of 
being tried by his peers; with accuser and witnesses face to face, in op- 
en court. But it is a sad and evil day, when common sense tahes the 
whole into its management, and this noble Institution is degraded into an 
instrument of the popular will. 

The whole community is resolved by the operations of .common sense 
into smaller societies, within which the cordiality and good feeling i^ 
greater or less in proportion as there i.s a greater or less similarity of 
character among those thatcompose them. Where the similarity is 
(Complete, there is that communion of souls which we call friendship — 
On the contrary where it is the lenst, as between the virtuous and the 
vicious, common sense is confined within a very narrow scope. Society 
■between such cannot amount to intimacy, without disgust; which is apt 
to show itself first on the part of the vicious. The reason seems to be, 
that the virtuous can better understand the vicious, than these can, 
ihose. There is not in hum>an naturCj however sunk and corrupted by 
vice, a disposition to hate virtue for its own sake. The difficulty is that 
the wicked cannot .^-"^ it — till it is with the dead. There is noi, perhaps, 
on earth '■ zzle than that which a pure and upright mind, in 

the living man, presents to the view of one that is thoroughly corrupt. - 
Deportment, conversation, motives, every thing is seen, not as it is, but 
,as it is painted on an imagination which draws i(s colors from within — 
I'rpm the subject and not from the object. 'J'his, i do not think, will, of 



17 

(self, fc ount fo*. il.e very rciVnikfcLlo fact, ihat so few ofthe pcetsand 
other writers of fiction have succeeded so welj in drawing portraits oi 
virtue, as of vice; for 1 should be loth to think that in such a case '.heir 
experience aided their invention: but that it has sonnething to do with 
the fact there is reason to believe. In Shakspeare, vve have lago, Shy- 
lock, llichard, and Aaron — which las!, however, is a character over- 
drawn; not a man but a devil; — these, and 1 kn ow not how many more 
each in his sort the very personification of wickedness: while of the 
opposite class there is not one. Even Milton has done better in his de- 
scription of Satan and the bad angels, than when he undertakes the 
good: though Eve is finely drawn. I am almost ready to make an ex-^ 
cepiion in favor of Eugene Sue, when I look at those exquisite creationSj 
Fleur de iMarie, Morel the Lapidary, and Rigolette!— but Farrand and 
Roden and Bras Rouge and Morok and Mailre d^ I'Ecole — and that hor- 
rid female group glare out upon me, like so many fiends — and I am 
forced to arrest the compliment. Among Homer's heroes there is brav" 
ery enough on both sides: with the Greeks, cunning more than enough. 
Penelope is chaste, and Nestor wise. Examples 6f political virtue there 
are. Of moral virtue almost none. On the other side, what a picture! 
His very gods are a pack of immortal villains, and his goddesses no bet- 
ter. With Byron I am not familiar; but, so far as my memory serves,* 
I cannot give him credit for one virtuous character. Virgil one can 
love as well as admire ia some of hid characters; and Sir Waller Scott 
still more. 

In the preceding remarks I have considered common sense in its 
actings towards the living. It connects us also with the dead, and 
with the whole of nature, animate, and inanimate. In its wilder and 
more extravagant movements, it attempts to go along with Faith into 
the region of things invisible. In these connexions it may afford a' 
theme for useful reflectron, on some future occasion. At present, I con- 
clude with this general remark, that the more we extend our acquaint- 
ance whh mankind, in all their diversities of condition and character, 
the more will our common sense improve itself, and the more we shali 
have the opportunity of freeing ourselves from whatever unseemly pe- 
culiarities may be attached to our character. The Belvidere Apollo is 
not the copy of any individual human form, but the perfect type ofthe 
Species, the concentration of what surpasses- in every individual into' 



one idea of faultless beauty and manly strength. It is by studying 
many minds, in their many ways of thinking, that we learn to correct 
what is amiss in our own. We may derive advantage in this way even 
from 'he vices and follies of men: for if we contemplate them aright, 
we shall see, mixed up with them, the elements of good, which may be 
separated fron) the evil. But it is to the contemplation of what is 
lovely and grand in human nature that I would have you chiefly to di- 
rect } our thoughts, — to men who have distinguished themselves by their 
virtues — to such, still more especially, as being cast into the midst of a 
corrupt system and a misguided age, had not the aid of common sense 
and the sympathies of the world on their side, but against them, — the 
heroes and sages, that worked their way to the accomplishment of 
great and lasting good to the human race, while they bore the scorn of 
contemporaries, because they were not, — as it was impossible that, by 
such men, they should be — understood:— the 

Pauci, quos sequus amavit 

Jupiter et ardens evixit ad asthera virtus 

Dis gen ill. 
Impressions upon your character received from the virtue of such men ^ 
will exalt you to a place in their communion, by sympathy wi th what- 
iever is great and pure in human nature, so that you shall feel the great 
heart of humanity beating within your bosoms. 



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